A Collection of Short Stories and Poems by Raven Writingdesk
by NathanMoore
Summary: A dark, often disturbing collection of short stories and poems penned by one of Equestira's swiftly rising authors, Raven Writingdesk.
1. Untitled Short Story

**An untitled short story written by Sir Raven Writingdesk:**

There was a stranger standing on my doorstep in the night, black hood drawn against a torrential downpour, coat collar turned up to a toothed wind. How long the stranger had been at my stoop, I do not know, only that at the seeming stroke of midnight did the cloaked figure ply the graven metal knock upon my oaken door. Despite my trepidation in regard to receiving guests after the hours of civil invitation, I felt myself compelled by a cold press against the very heart of me to extend my hand unto this dark figure who stood upon my doorstep. With shaking hoof, I did open wide my door and soon felt the harsh elements of the night reach out from the cold street to wrap me in paralyzing embrace. I bade the dark stranger enter, before the hurricane should undo all the work which a vigorously stoked fire had achieved over the past hours.

Wordlessly, the stranger entered and so did I close the door behind, shutting out the angry, shrieking protests of the unseasonable monsoon to let it resume its muted efforts against mine oaken door frame and sturdily constructed windows. I made to take coat of she who was now my guest, for it was indeed a mare who now occupied in my hall. She made no motion to unfasten her heavily laden garment, even though its function of protection against cold and wet had since been quite thoroughly nullified by the ferocity of the tempest beyond my door, so she stood in my hall, dripping water in such a way that it seemed as though a cloud of storm had taken refuge within the folds of the garment and continued to rain its burden of precipitation upon my floor in mockery of the four walls which had so ably kept its brethren at bay.

Seeing that my guest must be cold and wet, I remarked that I had made a fire and built it large, and I would be most relieved should she ensconce herself before it, if only because seeing her in so damp a condition that it did indeed cause my heart to weep for her.

Twice more I bade her to come and stand before my hearth, then wordlessly, the stranger entered my home. But before I was allowed to offer direction for my guest to find the hearth, her step, easy and measured, took her straight to my study wherein the hearth had been stoked. She moved and stood as though the house was her own, as though I was the one who was but the guest but had by some measure been the fool not to have understood this apparent fact. I felt myself prepare a protest within my breast, but it was punctured as though by knife and bled as heavy air from my lips as I looked up into the face of the stranger.

Hers was a face which every individual would know, even without knowing. For I looked into the depths of my guest's hood and I saw what seemed to be a skull without muscle, tendon, or sinew, then a flash of lightening, curious as I to see, did light my room and I saw I looked up a pale horse, whose hair was the very color of a bone bleached by desert sun. I recoiled from the sight, it could not be helped, for though I saw a face I could not yet seem to perceive the eyes that lay therein, and it seemed to my frightened and lying eye that I stared not into a mortal mare's eyes, but into a darkness far beyond any world that living hoof had tread.

"I beg your pardon a thousand times," I pleaded of my guest. "I am afraid the conditions of the night have overcome my sensibilities and in my present state I am as liable as a colt to startle at the smallest disturbance or most sudden noise."

My guest made no move to return my entreating gaze, nor did she move her lips to speak, and it seemed, in my fragile state, that I could not even see her breathe, though I knew that to be an impossibility, despite how I could see her stationary ribs through her still-soaked garment. Her ribs which had not yet moved to take a breath. And her garment which continued to drip water upon my floor at an unchanged pace. And her black hood still heavy with rain despite her unhealthy closeness to the fires of my hearth.

That was how I knew her face, though my mind protested still that I knew it not. For does not the mind of science rule among us? Do we not see that which cannot be explained, merely to dismiss it as something which, truly, mere needs one wiser than ourselves in order to perceive? And so rational mind cast aside the inner struggles of most keen heart and soul, so once more I did scoff my fears. Irrational they were, despite the growing darkness in my hall! Balderdash was all it could be, even as the fire began to smother, as though a great iron fist were closing down upon it. Only when the head of my guest finally turned to look me eye to eye did my mind give up the reigns of logic. And as it did, pale face of my guest did approach me, quite independently from its robed body so that it could study me with the eye that was no eye, for there was no whiteness or color to be seen; even the black was absent, leaving only the hollow gaze of the grave.

I screamed then. I know I must have screamed. I screamed until my lungs cracked in hopeless effort and my eyes did weep blood! But my scream merely found itself caught in the black eyes of the pale mare, dropping dead into thick smoke before even my own ears could perceive my own utterances of horror. I thrust my hooves out before me, thinking to trip the pale mare upon her own cloak, but even as I moved to do so the cloaked opened to greet me, yawning as wide and high as the very gates of Chaos!

Alas, my hearth did vanish, as did my books, and my chair, all drawn into the abyss before my waking eyes! And the sound! The horrid, wretched sound! It was a sound that was no sound, for when has one not even registered one note with one's ears for even one moment in a lifetime? Not one beat of the heart, or movement of hair? But this sound! It was a sound of unsound, swallowing, feeding, consuming! It was feeding! Feeding! Taking my soul from my body as an oyster from its shell! I could not longer hear mine own thoughts! It had my mind! My very mind was clunched in the glacial grasp of its claws as my eyes burned with pain as they tried to escape from their sockets because they saw what still approached: the face! The Face of the skull came toward me and my heart knew. The very soul of me knew that I looked into the eyes of that which takes life. There was no malice therein, for such a thing is not of this existence, but what I saw in that deepest of pits was my own frailty, my own mortality, and then, even as my eyes boiled inside my skull for peering into the ice of eternity, I saw my own death.

As clearly as I see my own words on this page, I could see my own end!

I awoke in my study, reclining in my chair, hooves folded as though for rest, or for preparation for interment. For a long moment, I dared not move for the shock of what I had only just witnessed and the dread visage which most assuredly must still have been held over my sweating brow. But no blow came, nor frigid breath upon my neck. The hearth had long since died down and what few cinders remained were upon the verge of giving up the struggle.

With hesitant step, I stood, shaking, hearing no noise but for the ticking of my mantelpiece clock and the worried beating of my heart within its cage. As I pondered whether I was now or had previously been lost within a dream or some mad delirium, I found the room too bright for the middle of the night, and the sounds of the storm outside could no longer be heard. Ensconced as my study was within the interior of my dwelling, I moved with hurried, anxious step to the large window of my main rooms, from which, on pleasant days, one could see out into the street below and witness neighbors passing to and fro. Indeed, as I cast aside the curtains, I found myself not looking out upon the darkest night of memory, but into the open arms of a bright new day. The sun beamed down exuberantly upon the citizens of the land below it, drawing everypony out into the street for pleasure instead of business. Even as I watched, a group of colts and fillies frolicked past my window, laughing in the unrestrained manner of youths as they chased one another hither and yon in no pattern that any adult could comprehend. To my incredulity, I noticed also that there was not even a single puddle to be seen, nor a solitary branch struck from a tree to show that there had been a storm not a handful of hours previous.

So comforted, I placed a hoof upon my breast as the final nervous efforts of my heart relaxed and my entire being, body and soul, recognized that my waking nightmare had at last been banished. I felt elation swell within me as my mind reconciled with the evidence that I had indeed been dreaming, and I felt foolish to have been so easily bested by the phantoms of my mind. But despite its passing, I recalled the truth of the finite nature of existence and so resolved to venture forth into the city so that I might enjoy the glory of the day. I prepared myself in morning routine, then finding appearance acceptable, I did step out into the street in such a pleased fashion that I daresay I did canter lightly down the lane.

Alas, had I but taken a moment, even a solitary second, I could have placed a hoof upon the rug which lay before the hearth and felt the cold dampness that clung there still. I would find no such reminder when I returned to my place of dwelling six hours hence, the vision of the night previous long since dismissed as dream and forgotten. And the prophecy of my end, so precisely and painfully delivered by a pale mare not of this world, was unwittingly cast from my mind, its warning, and edification, lost to the winds of oblivion.


	2. Piece of Heaven

I found myself seated across a table from a most agreeable mare of flowing mane and winning smile. A meal for two was before us, lain out in an inviting manner, with each of the hors d'oeuvres being small and easy to chew so that conversation could be allowed to remain unmolested from large, unwieldy bites. The lit candle in the center of the table flickered happily, as though its light was directly inspired by the joy our companionship brought one another. And I found myself to be content.

So filled with love and bliss was I that I judged the time was right, and with my best manners, I did rise from the table and bow before my mare, producing in my hoof a ring, which I did hold up before her eyes.

To my shock and disbelief, the ring was not taken from my outstretched hoof, but rather instead I received a look of incredulity.

"What is this?" she asked of me, her voice quite confused.

"A ring!" declared I with merry grin. "I propose to marry you!"

"By my reckoning, we have known each other long," she did admit, "and your company is indeed most agreeable to me. But marriage? I had not even considered in my mind that you were ever more than a very cherished friend, a brother in spirit, if I may. So no," she declared with a shake of her mane, "I do not accept. Please, secret that object away to whence it came and let us enjoy our meal as though nothing in the least occurred."

Oh, but I cannot begin to describe what I felt inside my chest. At first, it was mere disbelief at the words I was hearing. I knew her to enjoy humor and employ it rather deftly, but before I could smile again, it did dawn upon me that there was no jest to be had. Indeed, it was mine own advances were the fool of this tragedy, that it was my own words and heart that were now mocked and scorned. But there was no pain within my heart, no screaming inside my head; instead, the world was silence and then, crack! It all broke.

While I had never aspired to be a scholar, a great thinker, or a stallion of high philosophy, I nevertheless did consider myself acceptably wise and an individual of character. So imagine my surprise when my rational mind listened carefully to my mare, then, quite suddenly decided:

"I know how to make her mine. This fork, while not ideal, is sharper than the butter knife, and with it I will expose her heart and show her that love did dwell within!" And so I happily proceeded, doing my best to calm her fears, because while I knew it would be painful, it was certain we would both be better for it.

When the necessary deed was done, I did hold up the pulsing organ before her eyes her wide and unbelieving eyes.

"See?" said I. "It is so very red that love must reside within!" And I swear to you she smiled as more love dribbled from her mouth. "We shall be so very happy!" I declared with my arm around her shoulders. "Just the two of us together! Here! I shall display to you how much affection I hold for you!" And we did seat ourselves again across from one another, and with proper manners I did consumed her heart of love.

"Was that not wonderful?" I exclaimed when the act was done. "Now I have your love inside me and forever we shall be one!"

And so we did adjourn to the lounge, where she sat upon the long couch, and I did sit beside her, her hoofs in mine, and for hours I spoke of how deep my love for her ran.

For days we lived together as stallion and wife; so happy were in each other's sight that I could not bear to leave the house and her company for any of that time. Then one night I prepared our evening meal, when suddenly a sound was heard. I knew the sound was strange, for it was far too heavy for my mare's dainty step, and I proceeded into the drawing room to ensure she was quite safe. But when I arrived to view the couch where she had been dozing, I found it to be empty and quite quickly my mind became frozen.

It was in this extended moment of disbelief that my bride did enter the room once more, and she reached up to the coat of arms suspended above the hearth.

"Now, my sweet," said I as she gripped a sword within her hoof, "I understand you may resent the way I have treated you…" Then she advanced upon me with unmistakably purposed step, her large and glassy eyes regarding me with but one intent.

I did remove myself as quickly as I was able, then fled into the night to get away from the apparition. Yet when I looked behind myself, she somehow had closed the distance, and I barely evaded a sword thrust made at my gizzard.

I ran through darkened streets, then through abandoned tenement, and I did no longer dare look behind at the silently advance phantom. I ran for such a time that the moon reach its height above me, the mare in its surface calmly looked down upon my plight dispassionately. Then my eyes returned to the earth, my breath now quite spent, and I realized where I was. Before me were great slabs of rock, each etched uniquely; I was in a graveyard and I knew I must leave quickly.

But as I turned to flee, I found I could not move, for a hoof protruded from my chest, covered in the color of love. And in that hoof rested an organ I held in high regard, and I could not help but smile, for, now truly, my mare did hold my heart. As my life did fade, and my vision became dim, I watched her eat my love and knew that I had done her wrong.

"But of course!" thought I, "while I was caught up in the heaven of our bliss, she had not consumed my heart and so burned in hellfire hot!" And truly, I knew that this was only right!

And so I slowly sank down into the Earth as darkness closed around me, but I fear not because I was embraced by she who held my love, now and always, forever.


	3. A Midsummer Nightmare

'Twas a night like most other summer nights had been, warm and lightly breezy, and feeling no need for sleep, I did strike out from my place of dwelling in order to partake in an evening constitutional under the stars and moon.

"Ah!" expressed I, as I looked toward the black and sparkling expanse above, "'tis most assuredly a wondrous sight!" I trotted on, my hoofs producing a muted but upbeat rhythm upon the packed dirt path beneath, and as I walked, I saw a quiet multitude of night-time creatures, emerging to go about their respective businesses amongst the dark of night. An owl passed overhead, its winged flight all but missed had not its silhouette startled me from above. To my left, a deer observed me from a thicket, not distressed by my presence, but not quite trusting either. Through the night did I walk, until finally I could not help but yawn, and so I resolved to turn for home, that I might catch a few winks before the dawn.

As I began my journey back toward my bed, I found myself upon a path that before I had not previously tread.

"Curious," thought I, "I did not realize I had diverted." But these thoughts were swiftly wiped clean from the pages of my mind, for I did emerge from shrubbery strange to find myself in a forest dell, seemingly untouched by time.

Never had I seen such an ancient scene of muted glory, a breathtaking blend of green life and the silvered magic of the night. The trees, which I somehow had not noticed, did tower to what I perceived as inconceivable heights, while the ferns spread their fronds in such girth that a grown stallion could lay himself upon them and make a comfortable bed. Yet despite this strange, and dare I say unnatural, glade in which I had arrived, I found that I could look upward and always see the sky above, as though the trees, prehistoric though they were in both girth and height, bent before my very sight, as though to frame the glory which could be seen beyond this earth.

I pressed on, my senses quite overwhelmed by the strange and haunting beauty of the place, until so enraptured had I become that it did not enter into my reasoning as to how I had arrived, nor could I concern myself with how I should find my way home again. Then, I heard the quiet sound of water moving softly, slowly over deep, dark pools; not a running sound, and certainly not a babble, but rather it spoke in an inviting whisper, dulcetly entreating travelers to venture hither. I followed this new sound and it led me down my path, until I parted two great plants and walked into a lunar-lighted paradise.

The trees opened their branches before my eyes and the ferns kept respectful distance, and thusly I was allowed to clearly see a pond before my feet. Upon reaching the water's edge, my path did not deter, and formed instead a moon bridge, spanning the lily pads and frog choirs beneath. The bridge held no railing and was whiter than the moon, a fact which to me seemed altogether intentional, due to how it reflected the light of that very celestial object with singular finesse. And it was at the height, the very peak of this whitewashed construction, that I did see a figure that stole the breath from my lungs directly.

There was a mare of imperious bearing standing upon the bridge's peak, staring down into the water, and for a long, drawn moment, I did consider walking around the pond. It was not the pitch-black flanks of the mare that gave me pause, for mine own are just as dark, nor was it the metal helm that did rest protectively upon the crown of her midnight-blue mane'd head. Rather, it was the wings she possessed, though while not so strange individually, they existed in conjunction with a unicorn's horn upon her forehead.

Certainly, I knew of the alicorns, as do we all, but never had I received a visit from such a one as them. And added to that great honor was my own trepidation, because while power does not cow me, divine beauty may, most assuredly! But then it occurred to me that I had stumbled upon a magic place, for this forest should not exist here, so clearly I had, if indirectly, been invited.

So encouraged, I placed a hoof upon the impossibly unbroken arch of the moon bridge, and walked up its steep slope to approach the grand personage at its summit.

"Greetings," the mare did address me directly, her eyes ablaze with light. "Tell us, whither are you bound?"

"To mine house," declared I, adding a deep and courteous bow, "though it would appear that mine person has been redirected to this place, for it would seem I have arrived here quite by mistake."

"'Twas no accident," the mare stated severely, her consuming gaze returning to the waters, "you were enjoying our grand night, and so we brought you hither." And though I could swear my eyes deceived me, I am equally certain I saw a star move within the waters, as though the magic of this radiant creature did manipulate the celestial fixture.

"To what end?" I asked, confused, and then more discreetly added, "If I may be so bold as to inquire toward your intent."

"Our intent is to make night glorious," the mare raised her head once more, a gesture of such perfect grace and regality that my throat did catch upon itself for but a moment. "To perfect it." She turned her gaze of white light toward me. "But for the necessity of sleep, our night goes so often unseen, and we do deem this to be a most unfortunate circumstance. So burdened, we search far and wide for those with artistic sensibility and who also appreciate the muted tones of night, the soft variations of color, and the delicate, whispered sounds.

"Then we bring them hither," and she gestured all around her, "for in this place, sleep is needed not and nighttime endures forever. Ah, we see your mind, so please do speak; perhaps you think us mad?"

"Great Mare," spoke I, hoof upon my chest in wounded and supplicating manner, "my mind would not be so hastily concluded. But I should wonder for what purpose would you do this? Truly, many sleep through the night, but surely, in your quest, you must have seen many a pony observing all your glory. I fondly recall that I myself have often lain awake, yea, since I was but a colt, so that I may look upon the stars above, taking comfort in my heart from underneath their watchful eyes, guarding me even as I slept. Is the pure adoration of a colt or filly not enough? For my love was, and I would claim is still, very strong for the features of the night."

"You think our decision to create this place to be misguided?" inquired she, with slanted gaze and perhaps accusatory tone, and I knew I must tread these waters with tactful care.

"Such beauty cannot be wrong," concluded I truthfully, observing all the magic wonder of the unnatural landscape around me, "but I simply wonder at why a pony who loves the night should be brought here when the night of Equestria is of unsurpassed quality. After all, perfection cannot exceed perfection."

"And you conclude, with fair and rational mind, that our night in Equestria is already the portrait of perfection?" asked she.

"Truly, I cannot imagine how it can be improved," claimed I with great confidence.

"What if the stars were brighter?" And the sky blazed as though it was lit by ten thousand candles. "Mayhap if the moon were grander?" And it swelled to consume half the sky. "Should it shine all the brighter, perhaps?" And it seemed as though I could see the sun's very reflection in its surface, and the glade around me was bathed in silver so dazzling that my tongue was stricken dumb. Then, as though satisfied that her point had been made clear, the moon shrank and dimmed, while the stars withdrew into the sparkling midnight-blue blanket of the night sky.

So taken aback was I by this manipulation of everything I had long imagined to be permanent fixtures within the sky of night, that I was compelled to withdraw myself into a long moment of reflection, to compose my uneasy mind and features.

"Great Mare," began I, scraping one hoof against another, "it does occur to me that perfecting your night is not your ultimate goal, but rather you manipulate the adornment of the heavens in such a way that more ponies should wish to view your sky."

The grand personage uttered naught, merely waiting instead for me to finish my foolishly incomplete idea.

"As such, I cannot help but wonder: why does such an individual as yourself, timeless and powerful, give heed to the number of ponies who gaze upon the night-time heavens? We find your night sky peerless in beauty and we find comfort in the measured movement of the celestial bodies; when we feel removed from the world or long to gaze into the face of infinity, we need merely raise our faces to the sky. What more do we need?"

For a long moment, the midnight black alicorn did look upon me with high and inscrutable gaze. I felt the timeless night above me close upon itself as the power of the immortal before me brought her power to bare upon my now uncertain visage.

"We shall consider thy argument," the Great Mare did declare as her eyes narrowed in a manner most inscrutable. And then I fell. The moon bridge below vanished from under my hooves and nose over tail did I descend toward the abruptly dark and foreboding pool below, which seemed as if to be the jaws of Chaos opening before mine very eyes, and I braced myself against assuredly a cold plunge into death; assuredly punishment against my presumptuous words toward the black mare of the night.

Yet no cold and murky water touched my mane. The air was not forced away by a liquid prison closing over me. Indeed, when I should have hit the pond, the water abruptly flattened, then rebounded from my eyes, the starry reflections thrown out before me as though a cloth blown from my hands.

I was no longer falling; I was gazing up. For several long seconds, the paradoxical sensation that I had been falling upward tingled about in my brain, an ersatz sensation that my mind could not comprehend. Finally, convinced that I must be experiencing another feat of magical prowess by the whim of the Great Mare, I did finally lower my gaze. Below, my village was nestled in its valley, resting as a babe under the blanket of night, ever oblivious to the never sleeping mother watching over her precious one with tireless love and matriarchal caution.

With curious and vaguely untrusting gaze, I did view the landscape about myself, but I had quite previously been convinced that I had been sent back to the world of the real, for the moment the stars had resolved before my gaze, the air of magic and unreality of that Other place left me, as though I had been a pony under the influence of spirits, only to have his drunkenness abruptly drawn from his body.

For the remainder of the night, I did sit upon that hilltop, watching my fellows sleep and gazing at the sky above. Even as the stars faded, then vanished, and the moon began to set, still I watched, my mind attempting to interpret the events of what had occurred to be in that place of magic. Never once did it once strike me that perhaps I had been influenced by some strange herb or fungus which were known to grow in the nearby forest through which I had taken my evening constitutional, for so real and certain that place of Other had been that I could not conceive that it had not happened just as I remembered. And then the most peculiar thing struck me.

Of course it had been a dream. I did not believe that notion for a moment, but still it entered my mind and I could not comprehend why. And then it happened. I could not recall how I had been brought to that place. Then I did not remember how I had returned. Panicked, I realized that this strange yet wondrous experience was being taken from me, just as a peerless dream washes away from one's mind like chalk under the rain of reality. The more I fought, the more intent that rain became until the sun finally peeked above the hills and I found myself smiling with vapid enjoyment at the new day, secure in the knowledge that, of course, I had risen early to watch the sunrise.

And yet from then on, I always had the strangest sensations when looking upon a midnight sky. 'twas as though I could extend my hoof and touch the striking mane of an unsurpassed beauty whose face I could not recall, and I would be filled with a profound sorrow that I did not understand.

And years later when the Battle between the Princesses of Day and Night did occur, when She of Nightmares was henceforth banished to the moon, I did find myself irrevocably saddened. No longer did the nights blaze with quiet and dark perfection, and rare was the occasion when I would venture forth to wander under a darkened sky. And sometimes I would find myself remembering, only it was as though I recognized a space in my mind where memory should have resided, and then it would pass and I would be left in quiet sorrow to look up toward the Mare in the Moon and wonder what it was about her that saddened me so.


End file.
